fingers to her lips, lips still swollen from Manny’s kiss. What exactly were his feelings for her? She’d never imagined that he returned her sentiment, that he might want her just as badly as she’d wanted him, but in the face of the way he’d kissed her, she could hardly ignore the possibility. Had she been blind to the signs?
She thought back, trying to analyze Manny’s behavior toward her. As a teenager, she’d idolized him, fantasized about being Mrs. Manuel Ramirez, but she’d been careful to keep her girlish imaginings to herself. She would have died if he’d found out the extent of her infatuation.
Three years ago, she would have done anything for Manny to kiss her like he just had, but now it only complicated matters. No matter how much she wanted him to be more than a big-brother protective figure, it wasn’t possible. And if he knew the truth about her, he wouldn’t want her anyway.
“It’s snowing.” He turned to her when she looked over. “You used to love the snow.”
“Yeah,” she said faintly. But she didn’t now. It was too easy to be tracked in the snow. She remained silent, not voicing that tidbit of information. Instead she watched the flurry of snowflakes through the windshield wipers.
The heat pouring from the vents and the steady hum of the wipers lulled her into a state of relaxation. Soon her eyes grew as heavy as her heart, and she allowed them to close. Her final thought was that she hoped it wasn’t snowing wherever they ended up.
Chapter Eight
Manuel pulled to a stop outside a large log cabin and shut off the engine. He glanced over at Jules who was still sleeping soundly. He hated to disturb her, but he wasn’t going to leave her in the car while he went in to check out the cabin. She’d probably bolt. He had seen the resolve in her eyes. She may have conceded defeat for the moment, but he had no illusions that she was suddenly going to become complacent.
He got out, walked around to her side and quietly opened the door. He unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped his arms under her slight form. She came awake instantly.
“Jules, it’s okay. It’s me.”
She reached down for her duffle bag and held it close to her. “I can walk.”
He ignored her and scooped her up into his arms. As he headed for the front porch, he examined the area around them. The scent of pine was strong, and in the distance he could hear rushing water. The cabin was up on a slight hill that gave the surrounding area a good view from the inside. On two sides the forest was dense. From the sound, it seemed a river provided a natural barrier between the back of the cabin and the outlying woods. The only opening was the narrow drive leading to the front of the cabin.
Not willing to take any chances, he eased Jules from his arms and put a finger to his lips. “Stay behind me.” He drew his gun and cracked open the door. Jules stared at him in surprise but showed no discomfort over the appearance of the weapon.
After a quick run-through of the house, he was satisfied that it was safe to remain. He motioned for Jules to sit on the couch, and he flipped on the lights in the large living room.
She settled on the couch, clutching her duffle bag tight against her chest. He was certain she hadn’t had it at the hospital, but where she picked it up he couldn’t be sure. Despite his curiosity, he held his tongue, wanting her to calm down before they had their talk.
“Want something to eat?” he asked, turning toward the kitchen.
She stood, and he leveled a hard stare at her. “Sit down, Jules. I’ll get us something.”
Slowly, she complied. “Okay.”
He could see her from the open kitchen, and he was careful to keep a close eye on her as he rummaged through the cabinets. Tony had proved thorough as usual. They could easily survive weeks here if they had to.
“Want some pancakes?” he called.
A ghost of a smile formed around her lips. “That would be great. You always did make the
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]